


Birthday Wishes

by astraplain



Category: The Faculty (1998)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:59:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraplain/pseuds/astraplain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alien is dead, life goes on... for some</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Wishes

Today is my eighteenth birthday.

I wouldn't have remembered except that sometime in the weeks when I was recovering, I spent the better part of a day filling up all the squares in a pocket calendar. I was in and out of awareness a lot then, and desperate to write everything down so I wouldn't forget. I remember Zeke teasing me about it that night when he finally came to bed, his eyes dark with exhaustion.

He's gone again today. He and Stan took the truck so they could bring back more supplies. It's been a cold winter and Zeke's afraid we'll run short of something. He's already cleared out the nearest stores; the ballroom looks like a warehouse. He said he's going to the next town to get another generator but we both know he's really looking for more survivors. Last time he found a little girl. Stokes and Stan have been taking care of her. She won't or can't talk, so we call her Penny, as in "find a penny pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck". It was Stan's idea. They live in the suite next to ours.

I didn't want to move into this hotel at first. I guess I wanted to go home, to be around familiar things and pretend that everything would be okay. Zeke was right, though. This is better. There's 34 of us left; less than I hoped but more than any of us really expected to survive. I just wish...

Zeke says that we should save up our wishes; put them away for a while. Right now there are so many things that need our attention that wishing is a waste of time.

I hear voices in the hallway and glance at the clock. I should have been downstairs in the kitchen twenty minutes ago, but I just couldn't get out of bed. Zeke calls these my beauty rest days. He tells me I need all I can get, and then he kisses me until I want to drag him back into bed with me and ignore what's left of the world.

Zeke found some medical books in a nearby doctor's office. He's got stacks of books in the other room and whenever he can't sleep he goes there and reads. Sometimes I find him there, red-eyed and too exhausted to put down the book and come to bed.

On bad days I get terrible headaches and sometimes I'm too weak to get up. Zeke doesn't talk about it, but I know he's been reading up on nerve damage. I looked at a few of the medical books but then I gave up. What does it matter? Reading about it won't cure it.

See, when I killed the alien we called Marybeth...well, it didn't quite turn out like we expected. We thought that killing the alien would cure everyone; that they'd somehow magically be okay despite having had alien parasites in their brain. Right.

The reality is that the longer a person had been infected, the more likely they were to die. Most of the teachers died when the alien did. Some people, like my Mom, lingered for a few hours, some lasted a few days. A week later, less than a hundred were still alive.

It's been almost four months now, and less than half of us are still alive. A few stragglers have found us. Zeke's brought home a few more. Maybe when spring comes we can check the bigger cities.

Zeke thinks we're better off staying here than trying to move into a city. We've been living in the nicest hotel in town and we have all kinds of bottled water and canned foods and supplies in case the electricity should ever give out. There's freshwater lakes nearby where we could catch fish if we had to, and just down the road are farms. A few of the survivors have been living out there, taking care of the animals.

Zeke wouldn't tell me what they did with the bodies; there were so many. He just says that they are taken care of, and then his eyes darken and he won't look at me for a long time. I don't ask him any more.

I don't remember too much about what happened after I killed the alien. My memories are really fragmented and don't make much sense. I guess that's why I'm sort of obsessed with writing things down. Zeke brought me a whole box of empty journals and I've already filled two. He also brought me all the photo albums he could find in my house. I haven't been able to bring myself to go there yet, but he's gone for me a couple of times.

I got Stokes to help me go to Zeke's house and bring back a few things - some books and CDs and, although he didn't want them, I brought his family albums too. We haven't heard from his parents at all, but we just sort of figure that they're dead.

They were in Europe at the time so I keep hoping that they're just stuck there and that eventually there will be some way for them to get home. I tell Zeke that and he just shakes his head, but sometimes he gives me a kiss and a little smile afterwards.

Zeke. He's the one good thing in all of this. I forget a lot of things now, but I'll always remember the first night he climbed into bed with me. I was still pretty weak then but he was gentle and tender. I remember how he curled around me afterwards, holding me like I was something precious.

He still holds me like that, especially when I wake up crying... from the pain, from the memories, from the nightmares caused by what I can't remember...

Sometimes Zeke cries too. He tries to be quiet, but I always hear him. I try to comfort him and if he doesn't want it, I just hold him and hum until he settles. When it's really bad I rock him and sing or tell him nonsense stories just so he has something to listen to.

He cried like that on his birthday. I made him a cake and we all sang. That night we made love until he fell asleep. I stayed awake and held him, waiting, and was ready when the tears started. He cried until he was hoarse, but when he fell asleep again it was a deep, restful slumber; the first I think he'd had since this all started.

Maybe I'll make a cake this afternoon, when I'm feeling better. I'll put eighteen candles on it and make a wish before I blow them out. I've got a good wish this year — so good in fact, that I'm going to make it every year. And I'll know it came true when I spend my next birthday with Zeke by my side.

::end::


End file.
